


The Fourth Floor

by Sweatypuppy



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blood, Mental Asylum, big brother roman, bray is a sadistic creep as usual, lots of blood, lots of disorders and shit, overdoses, probably inaccurate depictions of mentally unstable people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweatypuppy/pseuds/Sweatypuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Ambrose. Mental patient serial number 060214. Paranoid schizophrenic, Intermittent Explosive Disorder (plausible), multiple personality disorder (plausible).</p>
<p>Basically, Roman's nutcase of a best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the backstory to my portrayal of Dean Ambrose in a mental asylum au Roleplay! It's crazy fun (pun instended) because dramatic shit yay!!! :D
> 
> Please don't get offended and hate me. I'm a very offensive person. :3

Dean Ambrose. Mental patient serial number 060214. Paranoid schizophrenic, Intermittent Explosive Disorder (plausible), multiple personality disorder (plausible).

Basically, Roman's nutcase of a best friend.

_He had known the boy for years before hand. Before any of this shit even happened._

_He was always at Dean's side. They were an unbreakable force, the dynamic duo._

_Sure, Dean had gone a little nutty when his mother committed suicide, back when he was seven years old. Too many pills at once and a bathroom sink to the head can do that to a lady. But he had gotten medication and things were okay. He had a girlfriend, a best friend, things were going okay._

_But his memory started to fail him. He could barely remember anything, and Roman wasn't sure if it was the alcohol he'd steal from his dad, the beatings from the same man, or the drugs stolen from the bathroom cabinet. Maybe a mixture of the three._

_Maybe it was those 'voices' he had claimed to hear._

_And one day, he snapped. The anger had gotten the better of him._

_He killed her. The girl he loved._

Then, they sent him away. At the age of eighteen, they sent this poor boy to a mental institution, where they all said he belonged, where he should've been sent years before.

But Roman couldn't just leave him.

He trained himself. Went to school, learned the basics, became a security guard. All for his best friend, to keep an eye on him, to keep him safe.

Once he'd arrived at the institution, he made his way up, working on floor after floor, until he came to the top.

The fourth floor.

Where the problem patients were kept.

Where his brother was kept.

After a while, he'd found Dean's room. At this point, he wasn't a boy anymore. He was twenty-five now, and didn't look even remotely the same.

First of all, he was tiny. Barely any meat on the poor kid. His hair a wreck, uncut for quite a while, beard scraggly. And he was strapped up in a straight jacket, a mask across his face so he couldn't scream.

Or bite, it looked like.

Roman walked in for the first time, Dean's eyes widening as he saw him. Had he remembered?

The nurse who was giving him a tour walked in with him. A chuckle escaped the bearded man's lips, making Roman look to him.

"What's so funny?"

"That boy right there, that's Dean Ambrose." He said the name as if he was some sort of super villain. "He's a bad seed, don't get too close when he's got the mask off. Don't get it the room when he's got the jacket off without being chained down, understand?"

Roman nodded slowly, eyeing the chains on the wall.

"I want to keep you safe, son. Don't want you leavin' us like the last guy did..." He chuckled and left the room, shaking his head.

Roman looked to Dean once more before following Doctor Wyatt out, shutting the door behind them.

\----------

Dean heard the door open, immediately looking up. A man in a uniform, but with an unfamiliar face. Was he here to take him away? No, there was nowhere to take him. He was already in hell. Nowhere worse.

Then, the Doctor came in from behind the guard. The mean man with the beard. Dean's eyes widened.

Oh, no. He was here to beat him.

Panic took him over, but he didn't move. Didn't want to show weakness toward this new employee.

But he was so weak! So vulnerable! His arms were tied, his mouth concealed, he couldn't speak, couldn't yell, couldn't claw...

They just stood by the door, talking about him.

Rude, at least include the subject in the conversation.

The Doctor left once again, leaving the taller man and the inmate alone.

Dark skin, long hair tied back, a tattoo creeping under the sleeve of his uniform. He seemed familiar. Friendly. Not extremely terrifying, much unlike that vulture of a Doctor.

Dean liked him.

Then, he left.

But Dean was sure he'd return.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of short, but I wanted to get another one out and I need to get used to writing more often again! I'll hopefully write more between classes this semester!!
> 
> So, this chapter is for a little bit of goingson on floor four, and the spawn of a nickname I guess. :)

Ambrose had been staring at him for the past five minutes.

Wether it was because he didn't want to focus on what the doctor was doing, or if he was actually interested in him, Roman couldn't tell.

Wyatt was getting ready to work on the patient, having had to wrestle the boy to get him unchained from the wall, out of his straight jacket, and strapped onto the operation table on the other side of the room.

Now, he just lied there, the lower half of his face covered to prevent him from screaming or even speaking. And he just stared, ignoring how the doctor filled needles with who-knows-what kind of liquid. He hated those needles.

Roman watched, glancing between the boy below him and the doctor beside him.

"So, what're in those, anyway?" He asked, looking to Ambrose whose eyes widened.

Wyatt shook his head. "Classified information." He had this smile across his face, that Dean clearly didn't like or trust.

Roman sighed quietly and nodded, looking back to Dean. He was awfully calm now, even after all the fighting and thrashing just a few minutes before. He looked pretty drained.

Until, of course, Bray held up a prepared needle, shooting a smirk in Dean's direction. His eyes immediately widened and he started to whimper, struggling against his restraints and trying to move away. He was trying to speak, the words muffled behind the mask.

"Don't fight it, boy," Bray mused, walking closer and taking Dean's forearm. "Not while we have a guest..."

Roman didn't watch when the needle went in.

\-----

"Call me back when he's sober. I've got another to take care of." Bray waved to Roman as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Roman nodded, looking back to the tired boy on the table, how he lied there deadweight and looked back at him with tired eyes. Kid looked pathetic. Much unlike the Dean Ambrose he used to know.

He sighed, moving closer to him, but Dean moved away defiantly. Not with as much fear, more like a stubborn child. Roman laughed, shaking his head and keeping his voice down. "Let me do something, alright? I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Dean eyed him suspiciously, staring him down as his hands moved closer and closer the the straps of his mask. Was he... Releasing him? Why?

He slowly took the mask off, Dean taking a few moments to lick his lips and stretch out his jaw. Then he looked up at him drunkenly, muttering, "Why'd you do that... This is against the rules, he'll be mad..."

Roman chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm bigger than him, he doesn't scare me..." Dean smiled a little at that, and Roman just couldn't help the curiosity. "Ambrose, do you know who I am?"

He took a few moments, looking the man over a few times. Then he nodded. "The guard from yesterday."

Roman blinked, raising an eyebrow. "That was... Over a week ago, Dean."

"From last week," he corrected himself, closing his eyes and nodding.

Roman bit his lip. It seemed like he didn't quite remember. He didn't really blame him, of course. His memory had only gotten worse over time, and with whatever they were doing to him here, it wasn't very surprising that he didn't.

"Well... I guess, since I know _you_..." Roman started, Dean opening his eyes again. "My name is Roman Reigns."

Dean smiled. "Hello, Rain..."

Roman blinked, narrowing his eyes and tilted his head. "N-no, _Reigns._ Roman _Reigns._ "

Dean nodded, smiling lightly and clearly starting to fall asleep. "I like you, Rain..."

Wonderful.


End file.
